


The Napoleon in the Pond Affair

by svetlanacat4



Category: Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:54:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svetlanacat4/pseuds/svetlanacat4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya and Napoleon have an opportunity to get a microdot during a party. By chance, the party takes place at a familiar place to Napoleon: the house of his family's old friends...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Napoleon in the Pond Affair

 

 

 

“They're old friends of my family, so, please... try to behave yourself!” He waved his hand around and sighed at the pouting face. “Now, now, no negative thoughts. Think how lucky you are to be here.”  
“Lucky?”, the blond yelled.

Other people in the main courtyard peeped discreetly at them.

Their hostess – and he paid tribute to her composure – didn't display any emotion. She nodded at the two young men, one of them bowing with a charming smile, the other muttering something and elbowing his way through the guests.

“I'm sorry, he's...”

She shook his head with a sympathetic smile and turned to new guests.

Her daughter giggled, slid her hand under his arm and pointed her chin at the very clashing creature with his black jeans, the check fabric of his shirt, his leather jacket and his defiant expression.

“Who is he?”

He brushed invisible dust away from the lapel of his glowing white tuxedo and sighed. “I'm sorry, really but I couldn't leave him alone at home. He...” He looked around and whispered, “ he's related to my aunt Amy...”

The young lady raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Related to your aunt Amy?”

“Well... It's... You have to promise...” He apologized silently, “He's...”

The girl's eyes widened with incredulity and ... excitement. “Is he... your... cousin?”

He sighed. “He lived in London, with his father, a... sailor. The man died and...” He hesitated.

The girl smiled. “She couldn't abandon him, of course...”

“No. She got him in New York but she can't really cope with... I couldn't even have him to put on a decent suit. He... He's...” He pursed his lips in disgust.

The blond leaned back against a column, his hands in his pockets, staring contemptuously at everything, at everybody.

The young girl tilted her head. “Is he... I mean... He looks like to be... Is he a... bad boy?”

She didn't worry at all, obviously. She was looking at the blond, biting her lip, like a ravenous canary about to savor her cat. “What's his name, Napoleon?”

He shook his head. “David. But, Heather, dear, you shouldn't...”

She was already heading towards her prey, picking up two Champagne glasses.

***

 

Napoleon Solo considered the depressing thing and clenched his jaws.

“Napoleon? Where are you?”

He went back in the living and looked daggers at his partner. The blond dropped his leather jacket on the armchair and sat down on the couch, holding out a small box to his friend.

“The microdot...” He smiled contentedly. “I love it when a plan comes together! Your friends' party was a great opportunity... Mmmm.... I like this bathrobe of yours...”

Napoleon Solo pointed an accusing finger at the bathroom. “Come on!”

The Russian's face was amazingly innocent but it didn't fool his partner.

The dark haired man, standing in his bathrobe's dignity, waited. The accusing finger was pointing at a poor, depressing heap of soaked clothes, previously white, at the moment stained with mud and green algae, topped with a crumbled black bow tie.

“You love it when a plan comes together? I can't remember about YOU having to push ME in the pond!”

The Russian failed miserably in biting apologetically his lip as he was fighting against an irrepressible laugh. “I'm sorry, Napoleon, really... As you were rushing at me in order to protect Heather's virtue...” He smiled sheepishly but his eyes were twinkling, “I thought that it would be more of a diversion... While they were all taking care of you, I went away and exchanged the microdot in our Bird friend's pocket...”

Illya came closer, putting his hand on the burgundy velvet. The hand slid down and loosened the belt. His other hand pulled down the bathrobe.

They exchanged a long, passionate kiss and while they were heading towards the bedroom, dropping clothes, the Russian added in a whisper “And you deserved a punishment for gossiping about aunt Amy!”

Napoleon held his lover in a tight embrace. “Amy...” He smiled tenderly,” She wouldn't mind having you as a son, tovarish....”

  
  



End file.
